Mirrors
by Paradocs
Summary: Until tomorrow, then, if you'll have me." There was a mirror, in that apartment. And through that mirror would come something strange and needed for Ryou.
1. Chapter 1

**Paradocs: **Another one of my one-shots. Inspired by some fanart I saw recently, plus just that very vague thing we call a muse.  
This is slightly AU (Alternate Universe), and, yes, some of my usual shounen-ai/yaoi. I'm not sure which yet; this is kinda an in-progress thing, so, yeah, count on a four-shot, actually.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters mentioned herein. Yet.

* * *

Ryou buttoned up the white shirt he was going to wear to school today. It was similar to a dress shirt, but with short sleeves, to make it more bearable to wear under the required high school uniform. The weather forecast called for sunshine and warm temperatures today, and it _was _springtime. About time he started wearing cooler clothes; he'd nearly suffocated the other day when he'd worn a sweater under his blue high-necked jacket! Even without the blazer on, it had been too warm for his tastes, and he wasn't in the habit of taking off his shirt in public, even if there _was _a coat on over it.

The white-haired boy smiled at that memory as his fingers nimbly fastened the top button. Smoothing the collar down so it didn't stick up, the teen slid his jacket on, closing it up just as neatly as he had his shirt. That accomplished, he quickly ran his long, slim digits through his wild, shoulder-length hair, in his daily attempt to make it look a little less like he'd just gotten out of bed. Ryou had long since given up trying to brush it out so that it didn't stick up at random angles on his head; a half-hour later, it'd be just as messy as it had been before he'd dealt with it. Besides, he thought that his long, white hair, with its constant wild appearance, made his tall, thin body look a little less ridiculous. Mind, it _had _earned him a few catcalls at school, and the gym teacher and some of the more jockish of the boys called him a girl, but Ryou didn't really care about them. As long as he was happy with his appearance, what did it matter? Still untangling the ends of his mane, he turned to look at the floor-length mirror he kept in his room, and stopped.

In the reflection, he saw himself... but it was _different. _The boy who stared at him from the cold glass was just a little taller, his hair a little more wild. His eyes were a different shade of Ryou's own chocolate-brown ones, just a little darker; he looked thinner, harder, sharper. The boy rubbed his eyes, wondering if the light was just playing with him. _I _knew _I shouldn't've stayed up so late studying for math... _He looked back at his reflection, and sighed in relief. He waved to the perfect mirror-image of his appearance, as if to bid it farewell, grabbed his bookbag off the floor, and walked out the door towards school.

Had Ryou looked behind him as he left that morning, he would have seen the boy of the first reflection wave him "goodbye" as the door clicked shut.

* * *

"Hey, Bakura! Catch!"

The boy looked up from his book just in time to have a bright green apple hit his pale forehead. The boy who'd thrown it, a tall, well-built blonde, swore under his breath as he and the gaggle of friends around him ran to where Ryou sat, holding the fruit and rubbing the spot where it had hit him. He looked up at the group as they reached him and smiled. The blonde flushed bright red, attempting to stammer out an apology.

"Look man, I'm sorry, 's just that, well--"

"Oh, I don't mind," the white-haired boy said calmly. "I was actually starting to get a little hungry. You wouldn't mind if I kept this, would you?" He gestured towards the apple. Jounouchi's face grew an ever deeper red.

"Uh, yeah, sure," he said, backing away. "Um, yeah, just... enjoy!" He finished, beckoning for his friends to follow him. All of them walked off immediately, save the shortest, whose hair was also the most wild and cartoonish.

"Jou didn't mean to hit you," Yuugi said apologetically. "He was just playing around, that's a--"

"Yuugi," Ryou interrupted calmly, standing up and shutting his book. He was far taller than the other boy, though that was hardly saying much. He was taller than quite a few people at school. "I'm fine, really."

The violet-eyed boy didn't look quite convinced. "Are you sure? 'Cuz, if you want, I could--"

"Yuugi," the brown-eyed boy sighed in exasperation. "I'm _fine. _If I wasn't, you'd know." Ryou put on a smile, to further press the point that he was alright. "Okay?"

The short teen hesitated, then nodded, beaming brightly. "Alright, Ryou! See you in math later!" He practically bounced back to his waiting friends as Ryou looked on, standing straight with his book clutched to his chest almost protectively. Anzu, a fairly pretty and popular girl, bent down slightly to talk with Yuugi, while Jounouchi and his best friend, Honda, joked loudly; Ryou made a point of tuning them out. He was more interested in what Yuugi and Anzu were saying about him.

Ryou wasn't paranoid; of that he was quite certain. But he was curious, like any other teenager might be, when he thought he was being discussed. He was a bit of a loner, after all, and that, combined with the fact that at least half of the girls in the school had asked him out since he'd arrived (and quietly refused each of those requests), meant that he was a hot topic for the school gossips. Any slight change of his behavior, and the whispers increased tenfold for a month, at the _very_ least.

Catching Anzu's critical brown eyes accidentally, the boy turned away, grabbing the apple hastily and, jamming it into his pocket, walked off towards the main building. He didn't really _want _the apple, but if he hadn't been so sweet and forgiving to Jounouchi back there, the gossips would've had a _field day._ After all, how could sweet, quiet little Bakura Ryou get angry with anyone? It would mean the world was coming to an end. Besides, Ryou was willing enough to keep up the facade, for their sakes and his own. It didn't hurt them, and it meant that he was pretty much left alone. He only had to respond when he was spoken to, and that was easy enough. It gave the girls their fantasies, after all, and he was pretty sure that those fantasy-versions of himself were better company.

* * *

The door's latch _click_ed familiarly as Ryou unlocked it, glad to be back in his small apartment and away from the whisperings of high school. The math exam had gone well enough; he hadn't finished first, but he'd finished, and he was confident that he'd done as well as Seto Kaiba on it.

Or at least, that was what he hoped. He needed a good score on this test to improve his grade in the class and keep his grades at a solid 4.0 this term. Anything less, and his dreams of getting into a good university after graduation would be destroyed. With a sigh, Ryou took off his school jacket, arranging it neatly on its hanger in the closet. He closed the door to the outside with his foot, then shoved his shoes off his feet. He started in towards the kitchen, intending to get himself something to eat, and stopped just in front of the mirror. He didn't expect to see anything strange there, like he had this morning. It had just been a trick of the light then, a mirage created by his sleep-deprived mind. Logic simply didn't allow things like that to happen, except in stories, and even then, those things never happened to quiet students like him. All the same, Ryou couldn't help but feel a little disappointed when the glass showed only his reflection. The teen grimaced at the sight. Here was a boy, rail-thin and pale as a sheet, with a face that seemed more fitting on a girl than on his body, with its flat chest and obviously boyish traits. Not even the baggy pants he wore with his uniform could hide _that. _He sighed, turning away from the looking glass and headed towards the kitchen. He could really use a bite to eat around now.

"Satsuma or apple?" Ryou mused, weighing the small orange in one hand and the green apple from school in the other. Both were tasty enough, in their own way, but the satsuma's sweet-and-tangy flavor always left Ryou wanting more. Apples, though, took a while to eat, and they tended to drip their juices all over the place. The most mess a satsuma could make was by leaving its peel lying around, but even then, it smelt rather nice. He put the apple back in the fruit drawer of his refrigerator, closed it, and walked back out towards the living room, peeling his snack as he went.

"I would've taken the apple, personally," a cool voice said. Ryou stopped peeling the orange and looked around the room, surprised. He'd shut the door behind him when he'd come in, no one had followed him home, and he hadn't heard the door open again; the windows were all too high up for anyone to climb in, and anyway, they were shut and locked tight. After a frantic moment in which his heart had thudded against his ribs like a bass drum, Ryou sighed and ruffled his hair. He was imagining things again, that was all. He'd just have to get more sleep tonight, that was all. He sat down in the wooden chair by his desk, refocusing his attention on the issue at hand: extracting his satsuma from its orange-colored outer covering. That accomplished, he neatly tossed it into the wastebasket next to his desk and tore off a section of the fruit, popping it into his mouth and chewing with a sense of satisfaction. It was perfectly ripe, not too juicy and just sweet enough to make him want more. He went to grab another piece of it.

"Apples are just so much more filling, that's all," the voice mused, almost as if it were talking to Ryou. The boy froze as the voice continued. "A little more satisfying, too, since they crunch when you bite into them. The juice is a negligible downside to it, I think, less so than the problem with those little satsumas of yours. You need more of those to fill you up, much less satisfy you."

Ryou blinked, his heart pounding furiously. "Who are you?" He ventured, his voice coming out almost a squeak. The voice laughed, not cruelly, but as if it were genuinely amused, even glad that he'd asked that.

"Take a look in the mirror," it said simply. Ryou hesitated, then stood and faced his reflection.

But it wasn't his reflection he saw there. It was different, altered and distorted from what he recognized as himself, but still the same, essentially.

It was what he'd seen that morning. The figure in the mirror smiled, the expression looking almost predatory on his sharp-angled face. Ryou swallowed hard.

"You're..." He struggled to find words and keep his voice from shaking at the same time. The figure nodded, as if acknowledging whatever he was thinking. Finally, Ryou found what he was trying to say.

"You're my _reflection_?"

The almost-mirror-version's smile widened as he shook his head, the more-spike-like hair bouncing slightly at the motion. "Not quite. I'm in the mirror, but I'm not. If that makes any sense...?" He fixed his dark eyes on Ryou's incredulous face, and sighed. "No, I suppose it doesn't." The figure ran his fingers through his snowy hair, a gesture eeriely similar to what Ryou'd done that morning. "How to explain....." it mused as Ryou looked on, silently fascinated by this. Either he was dreaming, or he'd simply gone mad; that was what logic told him.

_Could I touch him, though? If you can touch something, it's real,_ another part of him reasoned, prompting Ryou to wonder the same thing. _Could_ he touch this figure, this distorted reflection of himself? It was still standing there in the mirror, thinking, with the tip of his pink tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth just the slightest bit. Ryou stepped closer to the mirror, and the reflection's attention swiveled back to him, dark brown eyes fixed on his face. Ryou cleared his throat before he spoke. This was unnerving, to say the least.

"Could I... Could I touch you?" He asked, voice clear and calm in the silent apartment. The reflection nodded, smiling.

"'Course you can. See?" He put his hand up, palm facing Ryou, pressing it against where Ryou assumed the glass was. Slowly, the boy put up his own hand, pressing it against the glass. It was cold, slick, and hard, but it felt fragile, as if just a little more pressure would shatter it into a million pieces.

Ryou sighed, leaning his forehead against the mirror. He couldn't touch this person after all. It was just his imagination, daydreams brought on by living alone--

The sudden feeling of skin against his hand made him look up. There was the reflection's hand, touching his as though the glass of the mirror had melted away! The reflection twined his fingers with Ryou's, stepping just a little closer to Ryou. With his free hand, he grabbed Ryou's other hand, gently, so gently, and brought it up to his face so that Ryou could touch it. The reflection smiled again.

"I'm real," he said in that cool voice. "You can feel me, can't you? Touch my skin, hear my voice, see my face?" He squeezed the hand he held against his face, just enough to send a little twinge of pain, mild, mild pain, through Ryou's fingers. "Did you feel that? Do you see this?" He dropped the other hand and brought it around Ryou's back, pulled the suddenly-tensed Ryou closer to him, so close that the boy had to tilt his head up to look him in the face.

Ryou stared at that face, fixated on it. He felt himself relax a little, letting himself be held there by those arms. After a moment of pure silence, where neither he nor the mirror-him spoke but just stood there, looking at each other's faces, Ryou felt himself nod, heard himself speak.

"Do you have a name?" he asked. It only seemed right for this other person to have a name, something he could be called. The figure dropped the second hand, putting the now-free hand behind Ryou's back with the other; the first stayed where it was in the small of his back, the second placing itself between his shoulderblades. He smiled.

"Bakura," he answered, in a voice as whispery-quiet as could be, leaning down so that his forehead touched Ryou's. "You can call me Bakura, Ryou." Bakura half-closed his eyes, the expression on his face looking almost dreamlike. Ryou felt himself pressing his body closer to Bakura almost unconsciously. The arms tightened their grip around him, the hands gliding towards the poles of his body, the upper hand moving to the back of his neck, the lower hand further down so it was just above his waist.

Bakura kissed Ryou then, right on the lips. It was a soft kiss, a chaste kiss, the sort that only happened in the movies, when things were perfect and people were happy and never alone. Ryou touched his lips hesitantly with one hand as Bakura drew his lips away, loosening the arms that held them together. He let go of Ryou entirely, stepping backwards towards where the mirror had been just minutes before. Ryou stepped forward to follow him, but Bakura stopped him, holding his chin and tilting it upward so they saw eye to eye again.

"Until tomorrow, Ryou," Bakura said, kissing Ryou on the lips again, this kiss more warm and longer than the first. "I'll be back tomorrow for you, if you'll have me." With that, he dropped his hand, stepping backward into the frame. Ryou stood there and nodded as he saw the glass return to the mirror, saw his own reflection and not the face of the figure who'd held him only minutes before.

He would wait for tomorrow, then. If that was what would bring Bakura back from the mirror to this room again, he would do that in a heartbeat. Anything, if it would give him that company, even if only for a few brief moments.


	2. Chapter 2

**Paradocs: **Gasp. Seems like people actually liked reading through the first chapter of Mirrors. Well, this is great.  
I'd like to request that, if you favorite this story or add it to your Alerts, pleasepleasePLEASE leave a review! I'd like to know what you thought about it! Please?  
OH. And I'd like it noted that, no matter what you think, this story isn't moving anywhere NEAR full-on yaoi. I'll read the stuff, yes, but not write it. Y'all can live with some shounen-ai, right? Right. Good girls. ... And boys.

**Disclaimer: **I own these characters? Pft. Like hell I do!

* * *

_Beep.  
Beep.  
__Beep.  
Beep.  
Beep.  
Beep.  
Bee--_

Ryou glanced at his now-silent alarm clock, rubbing his eyes with the hand that wasn't resting on its button. Well, glanced wasn't exactly the right word. The way Ryou looked at the clock was more of a glare than a mere glance. He really didn't want to deal with it. Not this morning.

_6:32_, the digital clock displayed in bright red LED lights. Mentally, Ryou sighed. He didn't _want _to go to school today. It was Wednesday, for goodness sake, the one day of the week where they did running in P.E.. _Running! _

_Well, grumbling about it won't do much good_, Ryou thought, swinging his legs over the edge of his twin-size bed and shoving the sheets off himself. His mouth tasted like the leftover Chinese food he'd eaten while doing his math homework. Math had a tendency to erase everything else from his thoughts, after all, with all of the numbers and equations, the laws and theorems and postulates. Trigonometry had been hell last year, but Calculus was like entering the next circle of damnation for Ryou. Blearily, he shuffled into the bathroom and grabbed his toothbrush off the counter, raising his brown eyes to look at his reflection in the mirror.

Bakura winked at him from within its glass depths, then disappeared. Ryou's eyes widened. So it _hadn't_ been a dream after all! He grinned, squeezed his mint-flavoured toothpaste onto his brush, and began frantically scrubbing his mouth out with the stuff.

Breakfast was the usual fare for the teenager: a bowl of Apple Jacks and milk, nothing particularly fancy. It should've been enough to last him until lunchtime, but Ryou's quick metabolism ensured that he was hungry again by second period. This morning, Ryou wolfed down the food, rinsing the bowl out almost carelessly and leaving it in the sink. Standing in front of the mirror in the living room, he stripped off the grey t-shirt he'd worn to bed that night and pulled on a plain white one instead. Then, he started to take off his boxers, before a thought occured to him:

_Is Bakura watching?_

Just as swiftly as the thought had come, Ryou turned his back to the mirror to finish getting dressed, pulling on a clean pair of shorts.

"Well, it's not like I'd _watch _you take off your underwear, if you didn't want me to," Bakura's voice said, sounding like he was pouting. "I mean, it's not like I don't _want _to, but--" Ryou looked over his shoulder and saw the mirror reflecting Bakura, who looked fairly annoyed, with his arms crossed over his white shirt and a pair of boxers identical to the ones Ryou was wearing now. The smaller boy giggled, turning back around to pull on his school pants.

"You can't expect me to strip in front of a total stranger, can you?" Ryou called back to the mirror, tugging his foot through the right leg. He heard footsteps behind him and looked up into Bakura's smirking face. He felt his heart thudding in his chest as Bakura's cold hand gripped his chin almost tenderly.

"I suppose I can't, Ryou," he said in an equally-cool voice, his dark brown eyes half-open now as he leaned in closer to the teen's face. "But I don't suppose we're complete strangers, either. I mean, after all..." The boy smiled. "We _do _share an apartment."

Ryou let that sink in for a moment, glad to have Bakura back again, near him, _touching _him. A knock on the door woke him up from his thoughts.

"Bakura!" Yuugi's voice called out from outside. "I was wond'ring if you wanted to walk to school together today or something!"

Bakura turned away from Ryou, and the boy thought he saw his almost-reflection swearing under his breath. He couldn't blame him; Yuugi had gone and ruined his whole morning, interrupting his time with the one person he'd ever _want_ to walk with him to school.

But Yuugi couldn't know that. No one could. It wouldn't make sense to them, they'd call him insane or mental or something along those lines. Ryou tugged his pants on his other leg, practically yanking it over his besocked foot. It wasn't like anyone else could see Bakura; otherwise, Yuugi would've said something, asked who was in there with him. It was common knowledge at school that Ryou lived alone (_"Oh, poor Bakura-chan! He's so grown up and brave!"_), so, if Yuugi had heard Bakura, he would've asked something, for sure.

Bakura chuckled, looking at him. "Well, no, they can't see me, Ryou. Or hear me. I'm yours and yours alone." The mirror-boy chuckled again, ruffling Ryou's already-untidy hair with one hand. "Isn't that good? You don't have to share me with anyone, not now or ever." Ryou smiled back, wishing he could just stay like this forever, with Bakura, just talking to him about anything that came to mind.

Another knock on the door, this time harder, burst that bubble, too. "Bakura? Are you alright in there?"

Ryou stood up, tugging his pants on the rest of the way and grabbing his school jacket from its hanger in the closet. "Um, yeah, sorry! Just a little preoccupied, that's all!" He called out, shrugging the jacket onto his thin shoulders. Bakura smirked.

"A little?" He echoed, clearly amused. "I think you were just a bit more than a _little _preoccupied, Ryou." He grabbed Ryou and pulled him up close to his body, ignoring Ryou's little squeak of surprise. "Don't you?" He breathed, his face looking just smug enough to make the boy in his arms grin.

"Bakura?" Yuugi's voice interrupted. "What was that?"

_Crap. _Ryou thought as Bakura glared at the door. _You'd think he'd have worse hearing than that, with all that hair on his head. _Aloud, he said, "Oh, nothing. Just... tripped."

Bakura sniggered. "Yeah. Over my hands and into my arms." Ryou grinned, holding back a laugh, when a thought occured to him.

"You can't come to school with me, can you?" He whispered eagerly. Bakura looked down at him, looking suddenly sad. He turned around from Ryou.

"Nnnn.... no." Bakura sounded oddly hesitant, so unlike the self-assured person Ryou'd heard earlier that the smaller boy wanted to just hug him. "I can't go anywhere without a mirror," he turned back to Ryou, smirking again. "And I _think _your friends would get a little suspicious if you spent all day in the bathroom. Don't you?"

The whitenette opened his mouth to speak, to argue that no one would care if he was gone all day, then stopped. "They're not my friends," Ryou muttered, rubbing one arm in embarassment. "They just like to pretend they are."

"And you let them," Bakura added, though not accusingly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Look, just go to school, have a good day; I'll be waiting here when you get home."

"Really?"

Bakura chuckled. "Of course. You want me here, don't you?" He stepped closer and tilted Ryou's chin up with one slim white hand. His fingers were just as cold as Ryou remembered from last night. "Because, if you didn't..." The mirror-version of himself kissed Ryou on the lips, lightly, just enough to make Ryou's eyes widen in delight. "I don't think you'd react quite that way." He finished as he pulled away, releasing his hold on the smaller boy's rapidly flushing face.

"Go on, get to school now, before your friend explodes from impatience and leaves a mess on the doormat." Bakura's tone was as jovial and jesting as it had been earlier, but...

Did he look _sad_? Ryou grabbed his schoolbag off the floor and jammed his feet into his shoes. No, there was no way that he could be upset that Ryou was going to school for the day! Bakura seemed too cool and collected, too joking, to be so upset by something like that. Surely, Ryou was just imagining things again!

But perhaps he wasn't. The white-haired boy turned around, intending to ask the other if he was alright, and saw...

Nothing. Bakura had vanished again, leaving Ryou alone in the living room. The boy sighed, turned back to the door, and opened it, fixing a quiet smile to his face as he did so. Yuugi was standing out there, backpack hoisted on his small frame, and grinning.

"There you are!" The violet-eyed boy said cheerfully as Ryou stepped out of the apartment and shut the door, locking it with the house key he kept in his jacket pocket. "What took you so long, Bakura?" He continued as they walked towards the stairway and down to the street. "Was your dad on the phone?"

Ryou almost stopped. Certainly, the whole school knew that he lived alone and that his dad was usually abroad on some archaeological dig or another, but this was the first time anyone had asked him directly about it. But he'd thought that Yuugi hadn't been able to hear everything they'd been saying in there. Well, Bakura _had _said that no one could hear or see him but Ryou...

He fake-smiled at the shorter boy. "Y-yes," he lied, almost cursing himself for this. It was bad enough that he lied to everyone about who he was, or how he felt, but about his family? This was almost too much for him to do. "My father's just worried that I'm not feeling well lately, that's all. He wanted to be sure I was okay."

Yuugi's already-bright expression intensified almost a hundredfold. "Well, maybe he'll come home this summer to see you!" The young boy chirped. Ryou hesitated, then nodded. He knew that would never happen. His father was always away on business _because_ of Ryou, because his son reminded him too much of the wife and daughter he'd lost in a car accident several years ago.

But there was no reason for him to tell Yuugi that. Why weigh the obviously cheerful boy down with something that was clearly Ryou's problem? Besides, knowing the way Yuugi talked, he'd tell Anzu, and she, in turn, would tell the entire student body. And then Ryou's little fanclub would come squealing to "comfort" him. Mentally, Ryou shuddered. That was one thing he _didn't _want to experience in his lifetime, one of many things. It was bad enough that they already gossipped about him and asked him out almost constantly; he had a feeling that would only increase if this information made its way to their ears.

"Ack!" Yuugi's outburst jolted Ryou from his thoughts. The small boy looked from his wristwatch to the pale teen's face. "Bakura, if we don't hurry up, we'll be late for school! C'mon!" The teen dashed forwards, in a clear hurry to make it to the school in time for the first bell. Ryou watched him go, a strangely bitter expression in his chocolate-brown eyes.

_I wouldn't've been late if you hadn't interrupted me,_ he thought, not moving from his spot on the pavement. _I could've stayed home, spent the whole day with Bakura. If anyone had asked where I was, I could've told them I was sick, faked a cough like I did last year during the physical exams. They'd believe me. After all, since when did perfect-student Bakura Ryou play hooky? _The dark expression in his once-sweet eyes could have frightened any of his fans into fainting. Anger was also something unheard of from him, thanks to the calm, sweet-if-sad facade he assumed each and every morning and took off, shredded to the point of it being in ethereal tatters, once he was safely within his apartment and no one could see him let loose the fiery beast that had been forced to sleep within him all day long. Today, though, Yuugi had managed to crack that mask before the school day had properly begun, and it was taking all of Ryou's self-control to not run up to the tiny boy and throttle him to death.

"Bakura?" Yuugi had stopped and turned around. Ryou forced himself to look pleasant, forcing the hostility from his expression.

"Yes, Yuugi?"

The small boy smiled, completely oblivious to what the other boy had been thinking moments before. "Come on, we're gonna be late if you don't hurry up!" He continued on his way to school, followed shortly thereafter by a silently fuming Ryou, masked with a quiet face that spoke of sadness and inner calm.

It was not, in Ryou's mind, shaping up to be a good day.

* * *

School went well-enough for Ryou that day.

In math, the tests from the day before were handed back. Ryou was glad to see he'd gotten an A on his; it helped to keep up his appearance of being a good student. Most of the girls were too busy whining about their Cs and Bs to bother him as well. _Very nice, _the white-haired teen had thought, burying his head in his textbook so that no one could see the cold smirk he was wearing as he listened to the complaints of his fellows.

English went much the same way. The teacher had decided that a surprise grammar quiz was what they'd needed today, so most of the hour was spent working on it, with the remainder set aside for an in-class review on prepositions. English was one of the easier subjects in school for Ryou; the quiz took him a few minutes, and he spent the remaining time thinking quietly to himself.

Thinking about the mirror. Thinking about Bakura.

It was like the figure in the mirror was imprinted on Ryou's mind. He couldn't get the other's voice out of his head, or close his eyes without seeing that angular face's catlike grin. Indeed, it was impossible to forget Bakura, not that Ryou would've wanted to, given the chance.

His other academic courses passed quickly, though for Ryou, the short hours felt as if the whole school day was passing in slow motion for him, but he pretended otherwise, kept his calm facade up for all to see, despite the cracks Yuugi had rent in it that morning. It was an easy thing for him to do, practiced as he was.

It was lunchtime when the day turned sour for the whitenette.

Ryou had been sitting on the low brick wall near the field, eating the apple he'd brought with him and staring out into space. To anyone watching him, he looked thoughtful, and that was partly true. Ryou _was_ thinking, though a stranger'd be hard-pressed to guess what he was pondering. In truth, he was not, as he had been before, thinking about Bakura.

He was thinking about Yuugi.

The feminine boy sat there, watching as the short teen and his friends talked and laughed together. Occasionally, Jounouchi would do something ridiculous, and, while Anzu lectured him about what he'd just done, Yuugi and Honda would sit there, trying to hold in their laughter so that the girl wouldn't start in on them. It looked, to anyone else's eyes, like a normal group of high school friends.

To Ryou, though, it looked different, more like a group of four different people brought together by a mutual need for survival than something as fragile and foolish as friendship. The fact that he couldn't hear a word of what they were saying didn't help, either.

Were they talking about the math exam and English quiz? Or about something more secretive?

Were they talking about _him_? Ryou strained his ears to eavesdrop as he casually walked past them to the trash can that stood conveniently nearby their spot.

"So, Yuugi," Anzu took a polite, girlish bite of her sandwich. "You walked to school today with Bakura, didn't you?"

Yuugi nodded cheerfully, swallowing the mouthful of food he had before replying. "Yup! He was _really _quiet, though," he said, before adding, "He said that his dad called him."

Ryou fought to keep himself from marching over there and punching Yuugi in the face. Instead, he turned his visible attention to the wall of flyers that stood beside the garbage, fixing his eyes on one advertising a sale at the market ("10% off all produce!") while he continued to listen to the conversation.

Honda had grabbed Jounouchi's bookbag and had, apparently, run off with it across the soccer field now, with the blond male chasing after him angrily, leaving only Anzu and Yuugi sitting there, continuing their conversation as if nothing had happened.

"His dad?" Anzu took another small bite of her sandwich and swallowed. "Really?"

"Yeah!" Yuugi beamed, taking a bite of the satsuma he'd packed in his lunch. Ryou made a mental note to rid the house of all satsumas that afternoon. "He sounded kinda happy inside his apartment. He was making little squeaky noises and stuff, and talking really quiet."

_What ever happened to the concept of privacy?!_ Ryou thought angrily, almost shaking with rage. He feigned interest in an upcoming film club meeting, advertised on a neon green piece of paper.

"Did he say anything about it on the way?" The girl continued her innocent interrogation. Yuugi shook his head.

"Not really. I mean, he said his dad was just checking on him, making sure he was feeling alright, but..." his voice trailed off, catching Ryou's interest. Yuugi continued in a whisper. "He looked kinda _sad_."

Ryou could almost imagine Anzu's face right now, eyes wide open in surprise. "Why would he be sad about tha-- Oh, hello, Bakura!" She said quickly as the tall boy purposely walked over towards them, covering up the secretive discussion with a friendly smile and a hidden _we'll finish this later_ look she gave Yuugi. "How was that English quiz? I missed the question on commas."

_Clever,_ Ryou thought. _Pretending you were talking about school instead of me. Clever little slut._ Aloud, he said, "Oh, fine. I got all of the answers right. Do you need some help, Anzu?" The girl shook her head quickly, her brown hair flopping around with the motion.

"Oh, no, no. I just need to study more, that's all!" She said, clearly trying to not sound too hurried with her response. Ryou shrugged and smiled cheerfully as he heard the bell ring, inwardly laughing at her see-through lies.

"I'll see you in class later, then," he said calmly, matching her friendly tone perfectly as he walked back into the school building, grabbing his bookbag from the brick wall he'd sat on earlier as he passed it. Only a few hours left in this concrete-and-brick building, and he'd be free to go home and see Bakura. Only a few more hours left to pretend, and he'd be free for another afternoon.

And at that thought, Ryou smiled, a true grin that went unhidden and left more than one girl in his secret fanclub guessing at what had cheered up their favourite boy so much at lunchtime.


End file.
